* * *
“Good view, isn’t it?” Kita said, as he and Kenyatta viewed the nightlife of the village from atop a water tower, a high point in the village that was second only to a huge tavern toward the middle and rear of town. They had climbed the water tower in order to get a panoramic view of the place at night, as well as the general surroundings outside. Ever since their tree-climbing days when they were boys, the two friends had learned the value of having an overhead view of their surroundings during the day and at night.
While Kita watched over the village, Kenyatta concentrated on establishing a connection with his sister. He had been trying since they had first arrived in Nijika, but all of his efforts were in vain.
“Still nothing,” he said.
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Kita said. “If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that your sister always has a reason for everything. When it’s time, she’ll contact you.”
Kenyatta’s eyes popped open. “Kita, you feel that?”
Kita concentrated, then shook his head. “Feel what?”
“I feel a strong presence in this place. When we first got here I felt it, but now I’m feeling it again. There is someone, no, more than one person here who is strong, I can feel it.”
Kita concentrated. “I’m not getting anything. You don’t think it’s that girl that we met in the square earlier today, do you?”
“You mean the girl you met in the village square?” Kenyatta replied. “Well she did throw off a weird vibe that I couldn’t place.” He concentrated. “No, I don’t think it’s her.”
Kita resumed his watch. “I know what you mean. That woman had a really strange presence, and it didn’t exactly fit her. He looked back at Kenyatta, who was now running his fingers through his locks. “This is gonna sound weird, but I think that girl …”
“Wasn’t human,” Kenyatta finished, and Kita nodded grimly.
* * *
The samurai took the last gulp of the house special and looked at his two sisters sitting to his right, both staring at him and smiling. “What are you smiling at?” he demanded.
“Oh nothing at all, brother. Just a samurai still pretending that he can out-drink his little sister.”
“Bah.” Kenjiro slid his mug aside. “I have no need for useless competition with you.”
“Of course not,” Akemi said sweetly as she watched him slump in his chair. She wondered if he would ever realize she always managed to start after he’d already had a mug or two, and wasn’t paying attention that she didn’t drink as much.
Her attention was pulled from her inebriated brother to a man making his way to their table. He had long black hair tied back from his face by a golden ring. He wore a purple jewel in his left ear that gleamed when the light hit it just right. His goatee was neat and well-trimmed, giving him an almost sinister look. No, not sinister. Cunning.
Akemi took special note of the skintight shirt that finely displayed every muscle in his arsenal, and also served as a thermal garment to protect the wearer from the cold. Over the shirt, he wore a dark brown vest that fit him perfectly. His pants were loose fitting and altered to provide ease of mobility, and his shoes were of a thin material and fit the contours of his feet.
The man’s utilitarian style spoke of an experienced traveler, but there was one thing about him that drew the ninja’s attention. An odd sword hilt—the likes of which the ninja had never seen—hung over his left shoulder. She stared at the hilt for a moment, then blinked in surprise. It was almost as though she could feel the weapon, as though it touched her mind.
With considerable effort, the ninja wrenched her attention from that curious sword back to its owner. Nowadays, most travelers were armed in some way, be it crossbow, bow and arrows, or sword. This man made an effort at looking the part of an ordinary traveler, but Akemi knew better. From his stride to his perfectly designed clothes to his overall appearance, this one was definitely a seasoned warrior, not a simple armed traveler.
She smiled politely and crossed her arms, her left hand positioned under her arm and only inches away from Sekimaru. Her tipsy brother remained slumped in his chair, gripping his mug and eyeing the approaching man from the corner of his eye, his right hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” the man said politely. He smiled and glanced at her left hand, still hovering above her sword’s hilt.
“Who’s to say?” she replied.
“Let me assure you that you have no enemy in me, ninja.” He winked. Akemi kept her expression neutral despite her surprise, then realization hit her and she knew with whom she was dealing. Only one warrior other than a samurai could recognize a normally dressed ninja on first sight. He was a Neo Strider, one of the most mysterious and respected warriors in the world. Very little were known of striders by the general populous, but ninja and samurai knew well of them. Indeed, striders were feared and respected for their incredible skill, and although Akemi had never met one, she could feel by the presence of this man that their reputation was well-earned.
“And what business do you have with us, strider?” she asked carefully.
“My name is Shinobu.” He crossed his right hand over his chest and bowed. “I know of your mission and wish to talk with you, if I may.”
Kenjiro lifted his head and straightened himself in his chair. “And why, or rather, how, would you know anything about us? Our business does not concern you.”
Shinobu glanced at the chair to his left and then back to the two siblings. Akemi nodded her head, and he sat.
“Two days ago I felt a powerful evil that seemed to be coming from the far reaches of the world. Yesterday I sensed the same thing, but also a lighter presence. Strong, but not evil.” He winked again. “And here I find two of you. I would like to talk of your intentions, if we may?”
Kenjiro took note of the strider’s words. He had found two of them. Who else was in this cursed village?
* * *
A slender figure materialized in front of Zreal and instantly he knew that it was Szhegaza. “Is there a reason why you chose my chamber to return, zeNaga?” he snapped.
Szhegaza frowned. ZeNaga meant untrustworthy in Zreal’s home tongue. She and Zreal’s species were related, but bitter rivals, which was the source of the zetsuan’s distrust of her and their tense relationship.
“I thought I would pay you a visit before I went to see the master with my report,” Szhegaza answered, turning her frown into a grin.
Zreal glared at her. “And what do you have to report?”
“Oh, you will know in time Zreal. You need not worry.”
Zreal’s narrowed his eyes at the zitarian shifter, for her physical appearance was not the only thing that could change. Everything about Szhegaza and her kind was deceptive, including her cryptic response.
He watched as she reverted to her true form. She was almost as tall as he, and her two sets of wings were transparent and similar to a dragonfly. Her arms and legs were long, like poles, and her entire body was dark green with white stripes.
Each of the four fingers of her hands housed retractable claws about half a foot in length and sharp enough to slice cleanly through bone. Her face was slender and long, and housed mischievous yellow eyes and a small variety of tiny white dots, giving her face a speckled look.
Unlike Zreal’s species, zitarians had hair, and Szhegaza’s was tied above her head with a cylinder that she had stolen from the village she had just returned from. It hung to her waist in a long, orange ponytail.
“I do wish you would leave,” he said.
Szhegaza moved closer to her untrusting ally and smiled. “Oh that’s just rude, Zreal. Your mistrust is breaking one of my hearts. What have I done to earn such contempt?”
Zreal snorted. “It would take more than me to break either one of your hearts, Szhegaza.”
“Perhaps in time you will see me as a worthy ally, my friend.”
“It is not your worth th
at I doubt, but your motives. I have never known a Zitarian to work for the better of another without a hidden purpose.” Zreal waved a hand. “The master expects you, I’m sure.” Now was his turn to grin. “Unless you plan to keep him waiting?”
Szhegaza turned for the door. Halfway out, she stopped and smiled over her shoulder. “I have never seen anyone with abilities such as yours who is so humble. It is I who value your alliance.”
Zreal pondered those last words long after she had gone. Szhegaza would be aware of his capabilities, given their related heritage, but did their master undervalue him? He narrowed his eyes at the closed door. This was the main reason for his mistrust of the Zitarian. In but a few of minutes Szhegaza had planted a seed of doubt in his mind about his relationship with Brit. If he was not careful around her, Szhegaza’s poisonous words would surely lead to his demise.
***
Chapter Twenty-Two
Legs crossed, hands resting in his lap, Iel sat in the middle of a clear room that by all appearances had no walls, no ceiling and no floor. His skin color fluctuated between its natural gray and black, to blue and gray, while his eyes glowed green, then shifted to blue.
Descending ever deeper within himself, Iel delved his own consciousness until there was nothing but himself, then he pushed outward. The Drek was bringing an unimaginable evil to the world, and humans would not be able to stop him.
As his consciousness traveled farther out, crossing through the many dimensions of creation itself, he felt a familiar presence, like a smile touching his mind. In this state, Iel was formless, and could see in every direction at once. Now he floated inside what seemed to be an enormous colorful cloud. He sent his thoughts out to contact the ancient being, and his old friend.
“My friend. It is good to be in your presence. It has been too long since last we’ve spoken, but I fear I must be brief. I seek your council.” In less than a heartbeat, Iel received a telepathic response.
“Your visit is welcomed as always, my Ilanyan friend,” the entity greeted. “You are troubled … this concerns of your world, does it not?”
“As always, you are correct,” Iel answered. “The power of the abyss is being gathered for an incursion to my world, and I fear for the future.”
“Is that not why Takashaniel was created?”
“Yes, but the situation is complicated. A small army of the most powerful demons to walk the dark world is being gathered at this moment. I have felt it.”
Iel felt surprise from his formless friend. “Who or what on such an infantile world as Earth could have the ability to summon an army from the forsaken realm while Takashaniel stands?”
“A Drek,” Iel answered.
“A Drek inhabits your world?” the presence was calm, but incredulous. Several moments passed and Iel waited patiently. He knew the entity was seeking answers for him.
“You have more to battle than you can imagine, my Ilanyan friend. The union of a Drek and an army of Quentranzi is worrisome, yet you do have allies.” Iel felt it smiling at him. “Your unwitting allies will be enough. Alongside your resources, you can together repel the Drek.”
Iel wasn’t so sure. “They are powerful, for humans,” he replied. “I know they are the children of the gene, touched by the Daunyans, but they are too few against what will be a legion of demons. An army of five hundred thousand humans could not stand against ten Quentranzi.”
“You are correct, Iel, but they are unlike the rest of their species, as you will see when you meet them. Two of their number carry weapons capable of dealing enough damage to banish a demon back to their lightless world. Within Takashaniel, you can replicate this power and charge the weapons of the others who come with them. They will need you, my friend. You must trust in the abilities of these humans and stand beside them.”
Iel tried to swallow his apprehension. “I have no doubts of your knowledge, my friend, but how can a fragile human battle denizens from the dark plane?”
“They are special warriors who have been given rare gifts,” the entity answered. “They know that they are different, somehow, but they have not grasped their true potential. Each of them has abilities that reach beyond their limited perceptions of themselves. Soon, however, one of them will discover more of her inner talents. With these warriors by your side, you have an incredible force to stand against the Drek and his army.”
Despite the entity’s reassurance, Iel still had more questions. It spoke again, as if reading his thoughts.
“You must understand, Takashaniel is a magnificent creation and was erected for the purpose of balancing the negative and positive forces of your world. The Children of the Gene will come to you. Trust in them, for they have been entrusted by the Daunyans, though they do not know it.”
Iel hoped the ancient being was right.
* * *
After his meeting with his ancient formless friend, Iel and Mira began preparations for the defense. Minor demons could be dealt with easily, but to fight the more powerful fiends, the Ilanyan turned to the magical creatures of the earth.
Spawned from wild magic, these beings were not subject to the same laws of nature as were physical beings, making them more durable and their defeat less … final. Through his expressed wish to avoid harm to the wildlife of the fields surrounding the tower, he had been able to persuade these beings to come to his aid.
“What you have experienced so far,” he said, addressing his student, “is nothing compared to what approaches. But you are ready.
“It truly has come to this,” she said. “The tower that was created to balance the world will be the center of the darkest battle the world has ever seen.”
Iel put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It is unfortunate but necessary. Where light exists shadows are cast. Opposites are what make up the physical world.
As he spoke, Iel moved his sorrowful student to a transparent wall overlooking the forest. “It is how your kind learns and grows. Humans learn through personal physical experience. The Gods are always with us, and oblivion should be your last concern.” He smiled and Mira noticed his color changing from its normal dark gray and black to marble gray, which signaled affection and love from her teacher, and closest friend.
“Worry not,” he said. “There are others who have yet to assist.”
Mira looked up at her teacher, her eyes shimmering with repressed tears. Iel felt, more than saw, the warm aura that surrounded the young woman. Even during her adolescent years, the girl had always had a strong affinity for nature and despised conflict.
“Never lose your love and passion, my student. It is the force behind your power.”
“I will do my best,” she responded.
“As always,” Iel smiled.
***
Chapter Twenty-Three
Szhegaza watched Brit standing in the center of the dark room. He had been in meditation for half the day, standing still as a statue, preparing himself. The only light present pulsated from his glowing, red-purple eyes. Szhegaza, although notoriously eccentric and oftentimes impatient when it came to ritual of any kind, knew well not to make a sound in the Drek’s presence. After an hour of waiting, the light in his eyes dimmed and Brit turned to regard her.
“Thank you for your patience, Szhegaza,” he said.
“I would wait an eternity if that be the master’s wish,” Szhegaza replied.
A chuckle came in response. “Your loyal appearance is noted and appreciated for what it is, zitarian.” His naming of her devious race was not at all lost on Szhegaza. She stepped forward and presented Brit with a black orb, which he took from her and held in the palm of his hand. After a moment it began to hover.
“I encountered two interesting humans.” As she spoke, the Drek eyed the orb as it began to show the details of Szhegaza’s visit to the human town.
“Interesting,” he said. “There is some unusual power about those two.”
“I don’t see any reason to be concerned about them,” the Szhegaza re
marked, waving a dismissive hand. “How would they know of your plans? They are only humans, after all. Could there be a more limited perception than that of a human? They are oblivious and totally powerless to stand against you alone, much less your new allies.”
Brit never lifted his gaze from the orb as he responded. “Underestimation is a deadly adversary. The power I sense from those two is far greater than any homo sapiens I would expect to inhabit this world. It would surprise me if they were not involved in the defense for Takashaniel.”
Szhegaza let slip a raspy-sounding guffaw. “In my travels I have heard nothing of a rising defense for the tower. You believe that there will be …”
“It is you who is oblivious, Szhegaza,” Brit interrupted. “There is never a battle without a defense. If you believe that the most powerful structure on this world is completely oblivious of our mounting offensive then you are more fool than naive. These powerless humans that you speak of may have innumerable shortcomings, but they have survived through many ages.”
Szhegaza lowered her eyes in response to the insulting but correct observation. Harsh words or not, Brit was right. Takashaniel was the most powerful structure in the world, and it was be absurd to think that it would be unprepared to stand against an assault.
“Come.” Brit opened a set of tall double doors. Zreal spun about as the two entered and immediately dipped into a bow, sparing a covert glare for his counterpart.
Brit glanced between the smirking Szhegaza and Zreal. “Put away your nonsense and come with us.” The Drek led his two subordinates to yet another set of double doors.
Brit, Zreal and Szhegaza stepped out onto a semicircular balcony overlooking the largest horde of demons either of them had ever seen. Brit smirked as the shocked pair stared in disbelief, entranced at the sight of so many dark world denizens in one place outside of the abyss. Fiends of many different kinds flooded an area bordered by what Zreal guessed to be more powerful versions of the same seals Brit had used when first he’d summoned Kabriza.
“Master,” Zreal ventured. “I have no doubts of your wisdom and power, but is it a good idea to align ourselves with such a vast number of unpredictable fiends as these?”
Echoes of a Shattered Age Page 14